Second Act (His Chance 1)
* * *
Shortly after sunset, Lorenzo and I stood on the dock of the ferry that connected Catalina Island and the mainland. I’d managed to limit my luggage to one big, rolling suitcase, a messenger bag, and a garment bag, and my cat was hunched in her pink carrier, glaring at me.
“I want you to call me when you reach your destination,” he said. “It doesn’t matter how late it is.”
“I should call you in the morning. I think I’ll arrive in Mendocino around three a.m.”
“Three is fine.”
“No, it isn’t,” I said. “You’ll be asleep.”
“Actually, I’ll be up waiting for your call.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll call you at an ungodly hour.”
He smiled at me and said, “Thank you.” We stood there for a few moments as a breeze blew in off the harbor and pushed my hair into my eyes. He reached up and brushed it back for me, and when the ferry’s horn sounded, he said, “You should go.”
“You’re right.” There was so much I wanted to say, but instead I grabbed him in an embrace and held on tight. It was tough to make myself let go again, but finally I took a step back and said, “I’ll talk to you in a few hours.”
I slung the messenger and garment bags over my shoulder, picked up the pet carrier, and started wheeling my suitcase down the dock. After a minute, Lorenzo called my name. I turned to look at him, and he ran to catch up with me.
He took my face between his hands and kissed me. It was laced with longing. Then he started to say something, but he hesitated. Finally, he said, “Safe travels.” I nodded, and as I continued down the dock, I wondered what he’d really wanted to say.
Chapter 6
Phoenix Jaymes wasn’t what I’d expected. His texts had been so professional and efficient that I’d pictured someone with glasses, a bowtie, and a clipboard. Instead, he turned out to be a friendly guy of about thirty with shaggy brown hair, a short beard that seemed unplanned, and a warm smile. He was dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and cowboy boots, which he’d accessorized with some funky bracelets and rings. When he opened the back of his dark blue Ford Bronco to load my luggage, I wasn’t surprised to see a guitar case. It was the perfect finishing touch to the whole indie rocker vibe he had going on.
My cat was on her leash, and as I picked her up and climbed into the SUV, I said, “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“No problem.” Phoenix got behind the wheel and plugged his phone into a charger before pulling away from the terminal.
The Bronco didn’t look like a rental, so I asked, “Did you drive here from L.A.?”
“I did, and it was pretty fun. I hadn’t done a road trip in ages.” He glanced at the cat, who’d settled in on my lap, and asked, “Does she know she’s not a dog?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t know she’s not a person.”
He grinned at that. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her.” I glanced at his profile, and when I did it again a few seconds later, he said, “Go ahead and ask.”
“Okay. Why do you look so familiar?”
“Because my twin brother Dallas is a famous country singer.”
I thought about that and said, “That must suck. What do you do when random people come up and hassle you for an autograph, thinking you’re him?”
“I usually try to convince them they’ve got the wrong guy. But sometimes it’s easier to just go ahead and sign his name, then pose for some damn photos.”
“That sounds like a pain in the ass.”
“Yup.”
“So, how long have you been doing the personal assistant thing?”
“Ten years. It started after my brother got his first record deal. Because he’s a total disaster and needed help with pretty much everything, I went to work for him. He drove me insane though, so eventually I quit and moved to L.A. to pursue my music career. That obviously went great, and I ended up falling back on what I knew.”
“I know how insufferable a lot of people in Hollywood can be,” I said, “and I’m going to try my damnedest not to act like a total douche these next few weeks.”
“Oh, believe me, you’re already a pleasure to work for.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re actually talking to me, and you’re not sitting in the back seat.”
“Is that what most of your clients do?” When he nodded, I wrinkled my nose and said, “Celebrities are gross,” which made him chuckle.
“I hate to be the one to remind you,” he said, “but you’re about to spend the next several weeks with a whole pack of them.”
“I know, and it’s terrifying. Have you met any of the cast?”
“Yeah, I’ve met all four of the lead actors.”